


Amychesiphilia

by felisblanco



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-07
Updated: 2006-09-07
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:58:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Amychesiphilia: Arousal from scratching





	Amychesiphilia

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've been kinda occupied by Supernatural lately and maybe some of you are starting to think I've left the Buffy fandom altogether. [ETA. 2017. Guess I did. So sorry.] So I thought I'd post a little something that I wrote for [Felis' Fetish Challenge](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/405665.html). Unbeta'd and kinda short, 1388 words. Takes place during School Hard.
> 
> This one is for [](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/)**azure_k_mello** who wanted Xander/Angel and this:

Up until that moment Xander had been bursting with fury. Yeah, sure he'd been scared but frankly he was too damn angry to give into his fear. He knew it! He just knew Angel was nothing but a big old fake fraud. He was so gonna yell at Buffy, telling her off for this. Of course he’d be dead, or maybe even undead, but that was not gonna stop him from haunting her long enough to tell her what a shitty taste she had in men and 'Ha, ha, I told you so!'

So yeah, trembling with anger and possibly close to peeing his pants with fear and when he felt two pair of lips touch his neck he closed his eyes because that's sort of what you do when you're about to die. Only to have his eyes snap open in shock when he felt the fangs scratch his skin. The thing was it wasn't so much of an 'Oh my god, I'm gonna die' shock but, freaky enough, more of an 'Oh my god, I'm gonna come in my pants' shock.

It was only for a brief a second and then he was being flung aside as Angel fought back that Spike guy, all leather coats and, Jesus Christ, fangs. Xander lay sprawled on the floor for a good ten seconds, panting frantically, before he had the good sense to get to his feet and flee. The rest of the day went by in a daze. They fought some more vampires, he remembered that, and Spike fled. And then when it was all over Buffy and Willow went home with their mother's and Xander... Xander walked home alone because his mother hadn't showed up to one of these things since the 6th grade.

He didn't walk straight home but found himself strolling through the cemetery, mind still foggy with thoughts he couldn't string together to be coherent enough to understand. All he knew was that they involved fangs and skin. He shivered as he ran his finger over the small scratches on his neck.

“You shouldn't be out here alone.”

“Jesus!” To say he flailed would be an understatement. It was more of a jump-in-the-air-and-twist-around-only-to-fall-on-his-ass movement. He sat on the ground, staring up with wide eyes. “What are you... You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!”

 

Angel frowned. “You're in a cemetery, Xander. It's pretty much the vampire mall. Be grateful it was me and not someone looking for dinner, honing in on your neck.”

Xander jumped up and brushed leaves and dust off his jeans. “You should be the last person to talk about necks, Dead Boy. As I recall you had your teeth in mine just a few hours ago.”

“So I did.”

The voice sounded smug and Xander's eyes snapped up, glaring at him. “You think it's funny? You should be grateful I didn't kick your dead vampire ass for that.”

Angel chuckled, a low sound that did illegal things to Xander's pants. “Assuming you could, which we both know is far from the truth, why didn't you?”

“What?”

“Actually, from where I was standing, it looked like you were quite enjoying yourself.”

“What!?! Are you kidding me? Enjoying thinking of the things I would do to you once I got lose maybe.”

The smile on Angel's face was pure evil. “Exactly my thoughts. All the things you would do to me. Or that I would do to you.”

Xander could feel himself blushing and he turned away. “I don't know what you're talking ab-”

“I could smell you.”

Silence.

“Still can.”

“That... that means nothing. Fighting gets me hot. All that sweat. And...”

Angel took a step closer. “Was it the head lock? It turns you on, being manhandled like that?”

“Look-”

“Was it Spike?” Angel smiled softly. “He's quite handsome in his own way.”

Huh? “I'm not-”

Angel leaned forward and brushed his lips against Xander's neck. “Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fangs.”

He couldn't help it. His breath caught in his throat and he whimpered as his cock twisted painfully in his pants.

Angel pulled back, smirk back in place. “Ah. You're one of those. Biting turns you on. No wonder you like killing vampires. All that guilt.”

“Not... not biting. And don't you think I want those fangs of yours sucking my neck.”

Xander shook his finger in Angel's face, shivering when all Angel did was lick his teeth that instantly sharpened, nicking his tongue. A drop of blood shot forward and Angel smiled.

“Not biting. Huh. Could have fooled me. You saying that if I pressed you up against this tree...” Angel advanced until Xander bumped into the wide tree trunk, staring wide eyed up at the ridges and fangs hovering over him. “...and slid my teeth over your skin-”

Xander couldn't help it, he shuddered, making Angel stop abruptly.

“That's it? Not biting, just... scratching?”

Oh God. The moan slipped from his lips before he even knew it was coming. Angel was watching him with golden eyes, lips drawn back to reveal the white fangs in a surprised smirk.

“I... I'm not...”

Angel's fingers were in Xander's hair, pulling his head to the side to expose the length of his neck, a cool thigh pressing up against the hard bulge in Xander's pants.

“Would you like me to do it again?” Angel's voice was a soft growl, the words brushing his neck like a gentle breeze. “Run my fangs down your neck, just hard enough to leave thin red welts on your skin. Like shallow claw marks.” Xander whimpered as Angel leaned in and licked behind his ear. “You could tell them it was a cat. A big kitty cat you picked up on the way home and it didn't like it when you scratched its belly.” Angel chuckled in his ear. “Incidentally I rather like when someone scratches my belly. Especially...” He purred. “...with fangs.”

Holy shit. Xander was having trouble breathing from fear and arousal and his testicles were debating whether to explode or crawl up into his body. He should run. He should give Angel one sharp knee in the cajones and...

Angel tugged down the collar of Xander's shirt and let his fangs run down all the way from Xander's ear to his shoulder, leaving a sharp burning path down his skin. That was all it took. Something exploded behind his eyelids and he cried out, gripping Angel's arm and twisting the leather sleeve in his fist as he bucked and shuddered against Angel's thigh. Angel held him tight until the shaking slowed down and then he stepped back, smirking.

“Oh God!” He leaned back against the tree and ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to calm himself. He had come in his pants like a thirteen year old!

Angel grinned and licked his lips. “Trust me, God has very little to do with this.”

There were drops of blood at the corner of his mouth and Xander instinctively slapped a hand on his neck, feeling more blood stick to his palm. “You... You drew blood. I've got blood on my neck!”

The smirk faltered for a moment. “Just a little.”

“And you're still not gonna eat me?”

The smirk was gone like a flash, replaced with something dark and dangerous. “I don't eat people anymore, Xander.” He blinked and then the corner of his lips tugged up in a small smile. “Although, occasionally, I do taste them.”

“No-no tasting. Absolutely **no** tasting!” Xander pushed away from the tree and stumbled away. His legs shook and his boxers were wet and sticky. He didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or scream like a girl. “Don't- don't ever do that again.”

The soft laughter followed him through the dark and all the way to his front door. He ran up to his room and collapsed on the bed, burying his face in the pillows as his body shivered.

The next day he wore a turtleneck to school for the first time since kindergarten. He couldn't stop rubbing his neck, running into the bathroom every now and then to look at the scratches.

When he came to the cemetery that night, Angel was waiting for him.  


fin


End file.
